


Chasing Your Own Tail

by Erato_Muse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragon Pox, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, M/M, Masks, Pandemics, Post-War, Quarantine, Self Care, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Raise Harry Potter, Stir Crazy House Husband Sirius, Technology in the Wizarding World, Virus, alternative universe, safer at home, war guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24338953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erato_Muse/pseuds/Erato_Muse
Summary: Sirius is bored out of his skull in quarantine, and Remus has tea and empathy to calm his faithful Padfoot; post-war, in an Alternative Universe where Sirius and Remus raised Harry happily, but he still had to face and defeat Voldemort.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 46





	Chasing Your Own Tail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CurrerJean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurrerJean/gifts).



> This is my first Wolf Star, although I have loved this ship since my teens! Being out of work during this time has given me more time to read HP and write HPfic, so this is the result. Enjoy:)

Harry was happy. Every day, Sirius reminded himself of that, a micro practice of the trendy ‘Daily Gratitude’ the hipsters on the Wizarding World Web seemed so enamored of. He was skeptical at first, but Harry quickly got him hooked on smartphones and apps…he still needed help using his camera sometimes, to which Harry quickly lamented, “Okay, Boomer.”  
Harry was the first baby he had ever held, and being entrusted as his godfather had inspired a new maturity in Sirius. Sirius thought of that dreadful Halloween, when he lost James, his brother in all but blood, and Lily, the angel and mother of their little gang of misfits, and Harry, his parents, his heart had hammered with what he thought was fright when Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid entrusted Harry to his care. It wasn’t fright at actually fulfilling the role of godfather, and all the myriad ways he could cock it up….it was his heart finding a new rhythm, like a river changing streams after an earthquake. He was a parent, now.  
“Lily died to protect Harry, unknowingly sealing him with the most ancient and potent form of protection anyone can invoke. That is why love so often seems irrational, or unwarranted, to be able to stretch beyond its reasonable capacity and to embolden us to be more than we were. It is, in short, magic. Where Harry is loved by someone Lily loved, and who loved her, he will always be safe,” Dumbledore said.  
“Well, everyone loved Lily,” Sirius said.  
“Yes, but not everyone is Harry’s godfather,” Minerva McGonagall said shortly. Being treated like a naughty boy put him on comfortingly familiar territory. “If you accept the role, there is a ritual we must perform. You will take a vow, almost like an Unbreakable Vow.”  
He’d sworn once before God, a powerful being he knew very little of, to protect Harry. Standing on the tatty rug of the flat he and Remus shared, in the small living room that adjoined to the kitchen, he had sworn to magic, a power he had known all his life, taken for granted, rejected, toyed with and been hurt by, hurt others with and used for trivialities, and realized he had known little of it, too. He was being shown both God and magic for the first time, and they all came down to love. They could all be called Love.

Harry was an easy child to love, but not always an easy person to know. As he spent his childhood harassed by Voldemort’s attempts to come back to power, and then threatened by the man himself (if he could be called a man…) once he returned, he was prone to suspicion, rage, and rash actions, all made worse by his tendency to bottle up his emotions.  
“Trauma,” Remus had explained. “He saw her die, Sirius. And he is marked by the Killing Curse as much as he is by Lily’s love. But, the love is stronger. If we love him, the love will win.”  
And, it had. Harry had faced down the Dark Lord, with the help of his friends and the adults in the Order of the Phoenix, and for the second time, the war was over. It had taken the help of some surprising allies, but now that the conflict was over people held life as more precious in their community.  
And Harry was at university. He was happy, majoring in Defensive Magic at Percival College, a secret university within Oxford.  
“Our little Harry, an Oxford Man!” Remus often joked. He had been by Sirius’s side, as a lover, co-parent, and dearest friend.  
Now, they were together in quarantine. Much like Voldemort, this new, viciously virulent, novel form of Dragon Pox was an enemy that lurked in daily life, could strike at any time, transforming the familiar and beloved world into a nightmare of lost loved ones and the fear of facing a new day and fresh terror. Unlike Voldemort, it couldn’t be killed. It didn’t have a cure, though Alchemists, Healers, and Potioneers were hard at work to find one, and a vaccine.  
Quarantine had not entirely emptied the streets of Wizarding London and Hogsmeade, and other hidden enclaves of magical life. Some people disobeyed the ‘stay at home’ mandate of the Ministry, and there was much debate over wearing masks over the nose and mouth did much to stop the disease. Those who were already frail, such as those with curses in their blood, were at especial risk.  
Remus, as a veterinarian at the Magical Menagerie magizoology sanctuary in Wizarding London, couldn’t work from home-he had to care for the creatures there. The Grindylows would miss him if he took time off. He convinced Sirius to stay home, however.  
“Oh, that old curse? Look, there’s not many a dark wizarding family without an Ill Wish in the line, somewhere, but I’ve always been strong. I was a Beater for Gryffindor, Moony!” Sirius protested.  
“Twenty years ago. We are not young men anymore, my old friend,” Remus said.  
“Friend? I’ve been demoted, have I?” Sirius said, raising a roguish eyebrow.  
“Please, stay home. I can pick up the groceries on the way home, just make up a list. We can just learn to live without cafes, bookshops, and jogs in the park, for now. You have a compromised immune system, with that old curse on your family in your blood. It would make Harry feel more secure if you weren’t in danger,” Remus said.  
Harry. Harry was happy. He liked his classes, and his professors…and he was seeing a girl, although he was being a little mysterious about who, at first. He didn’t want Harry upset or disturbed. He’d do it for Harry.  
Quarantine soon brought out the monsters in Sirius’s head. The faces and screams of both wars, the memories of his childhood. He could feel a morass of grief and rage pooling beneath his skin, and it wanted out, wanted release, distraction. Evenings with Remus, when he returned from work, were tempered by guilt that he couldn’t contribute. Sometimes, Remus needed more alone time to clear his head than usual, or was tired from new duties and longer hours, and they fought. The days were long, and the news was littered with signs of change, new services, new outrages and fears, restrictions, tallies of death count and infection rate, but also stories of heroism and kindness. Front line Healers risking their lives to care for the ill and dying, witches and wizards giving supplies and food to their ill or unemployed neighbors.  
The world was changing, and usually that meant Sirius would be fighting an enemy, who could be defeated one day. This enemy may linger with them indefinitely, wracking scientists’ brains for decades as they searched for a vaccine and a cure, the way HIV/AIDS had. Fighting it meant facing the worst in yourself, and the weak spots in your bond with others.  
Sirius left Harry a PM on Grimoire, the most popular Wizarding social media site. He would answer when he could, but he was studying by OWL, an online conference platform, and quarantined in his flat. Not being able to speak to someone he loved took his mind back to the past, to feeling alone and unloved. His mind was exhausted. He missed James. He thought of him more and more. Maybe he had not let himself think of James for a long time.  
His ears perked up as he heard feet headed towards his and Remus’s bedroom.  
“Hello, my love,” Remus said.  
“ ‘My love?’” Sirius repeated. “I’m still not over that ‘old friend’ business.”  
“Just trying to make a point. Global pandemics make you tetchy,” Remus said. “Have you meditated?”  
“And did Tai Chi, and read one of those pretentious Man Booker Prize winning novels you leave about, and messaged Harry, and did Yoga. Bloody Yoga, Remus! And I still can’t forget,” Sirius said.  
“Forget, what, love?” Remus said.  
“That its my fault,” Sirius said. “Its my fault Lily and James died. I said we should switch Secret Keepers. They trusted me, and I shirked the responsibility…thinking I was clever, when I was really running out on them. I was always looking for freedom…but being with the people you love is the only freedom. Freedom is something we give each other, just like love is. I was a bloody fool. A dumb young punk. I wasted time, and hurt people while I was wrecking myself. I…I am cursed.”  
“Sirius-breathe. And look out the window,” Remus said.  
Sirius looked out into their yard. A squirrel with a soft but slender body, gray-brown fur, dark eyes, and a curving, bushy tail, paused amongst the dandelions, and then continued to gambol in the grass and yellow weeds.  
“You’re in here, chasing your own tail. You’re an energetic man, and you’re used to pursuing what interests you and what you believe in. You’re used to doing things for the people you love. But, we just need you to be here,” Remus said. “You’ve been carrying this guilt around about James and Lily for a long time, now sitting with yourself has brought it out. Don’t let it win. Stay here with us. Be here.”  
“I’m no good at this shit, Moony,” Sirius said.  
“We’re all figuring out the new normal. But, embrace it as a task, and that part of it is caring for your mind. You’re good at torturing yourself, and you know, it gives you that dashing, Byronic, Heathcliff-esque sex appeal. But, I’m not losing you to despair no matter how well you wear it. James and Lily are at peace. Harry is happy,” Remus said.  
“Harry is happy,” Sirius repeated. His mantra.  
“Would you like some Earl Gray?” Remus said.  
“That would be lovely…and then, would you like to take Padfoot for a walk?” Sirius said.  
Remus smiled. “Exercise is allowed, and essential,” he assented.


End file.
